There were a total of about fifty logs of varying thickness, dragged by the players with ropes and carts, and brought to the wall of the sanatorium.

To be honest, the performance of these players exceeded Brian Carter's expectations.

Each log was between 8 and 10 meters long, with some even reaching 20 meters, and more than half were as thick as a thigh.

Brian Carter did a tally—altogether, 2,000 contribution points.

Among them, Old White contributed the most, earning 800 points by himself. Gale was probably the unluckiest; his clone wasn’t good at physical labor, just an average build, and after a whole day’s work, he only earned 300 points.

As for what these things were for?

Brian Carter hadn’t figured it out yet.

The shelter was dirt poor at the moment. He only had two lollipops in his pocket; he used to have a compressed biscuit, but he’d already eaten it.

After thinking it over, he only told the players that, besides waiting three days, resurrection also required a resurrection coin.

And resurrection coins had to be purchased with contribution points.

Although the “purchasing power” of contribution points was a bit weak, the players didn’t seem to mind much.

After all, it was still the closed beta phase, and it was understandable that there wasn’t much game content. As long as there was no data wipe, they could stockpile some money, and once the game officially launched, there would always be ways to spend it.

Also, contribution points weren’t physical—they were just a number, and for now, could only be checked on the official website after logging out.

Although Brian Carter wanted to imitate Boulder City and make some tangible coins, there was no way—the shelter’s conditions were too harsh, and he couldn’t even gather the materials needed for “minting.”

He couldn’t just hand out poker chips to the players.

Those things were hard currency around Springwater City, but he didn’t have many left himself.

Besides, giving them chips directly was useless; the players couldn’t go trade at survivor outposts on their own.

He could communicate with the survivors because his soul had crossed over, and his mind was filled with this world’s language.

But the clones the players used were blank slates, without even basic intelligence, let alone inherited memories.

The survivors around Springwater City used the Union’s common language.

This language was completely different from any language or ethnicity in the real world—at most, its grammar and pronunciation bore a slight resemblance to Chinese.

In the future, Brian Carter would consider developing a translation tool to solve the communication problem between players and “NPCs,” and at the same time redesign the distribution system and economic system.

But not now.

……

After checking today’s work results, it was getting late.

Brian Carter looked up at the setting sun on the horizon, squinting slightly.

It was almost evening.

“Administrator, I found that our outpost doesn’t have electricity,” Long came forward and said, “Why don’t we try to get a generator?”

That was a good question.

Unfortunately, it was pointless.

“We don’t have an extra generator,” Brian Carter looked at him. “Does anyone here know about this stuff? Or have any electrical skills?”

The players looked at each other.

“Can’t we just run a wire from underground?” Ethan Reed asked a rather silly question.

“We don’t have a cable that long, and the shelter’s energy isn’t unlimited. Even if it works in the short term, it won’t solve the long-term problem, and it’ll create even bigger risks.”

At this point, Brian Carter paused.

“It’s getting late. We should head back.”

By “head back,” he naturally meant “log off” for the players.

Although it wasn’t completely dark yet, it was already five in the afternoon, and in parallel world Huaguo, it would soon be dawn.

Unknowingly, they had spent quite a while in the game world. When the players snapped back to reality, they all had a look of lingering excitement on their faces.

It always felt like there was so much more to explore in this world.

But they still had work to do during the day, so they couldn’t stay here forever.

……

Inside Shelter 404.

Watching the players lie back down in their incubation pods, Brian Carter thought that maybe he should try recruiting some people who were free during the day.

Or players from other time zones.

Otherwise, once night fell, the huge outpost base would be left with only himself, which wasn’t very safe.

“I’ll just sleep in the shelter again tonight.”

If he didn’t have to, he really didn’t want to go back to that “doghouse” on Bett Street.

Just as Brian Carter was wondering what to do, Little Henry came up to him.

“Master.”

“What is it?”

“The clone’s physical examination report has been updated. Would you like to take a look?”

Brian Carter hesitated slightly.

“…Physical examination report?”

“Mm! Every time a player logs out normally, the incubation pod scans the clone inside, records its physical condition, and extracts a certain number of embryonic stem cells for backup, recording the progress of gene sequence development—”

“Wait, what’s a gene sequence?”

Hearing this unfamiliar term, Brian Carter felt like he’d missed some key information.

Facing the administrator’s question, Little Henry answered nonchalantly.